


Just my Type

by Allegra_Soleil



Series: Tumblr requests and imagines [10]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Peter is not the kinda guy to have a one night stand, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader is NOT a good girl, Reader is not the kinda girl to fall in love, Semi-Public Sex, yet here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 22:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegra_Soleil/pseuds/Allegra_Soleil
Summary: Peter just wants to get through ONE school trip unscathed... But when the new girl seduces him on the bus, he might not be able to leave without a scar.Slightly sub!Peter/Dom!Reader, this is mostly filth with very little plot at the end.





	Just my Type

Peter didn't know how he had gotten here: One minute, he was just dodging another one of Flash's caustic remarks, minding his own business, just trying to get out of _one field trip_ unscathed; and the next he was here... With you, the new girl, on his lap bouncing on his cock, in broad daylight on the top floor of the bus. Where anyone could come up at any minute. Where anyone could see.

It was wrong. It was dangerous. _It was insanely hot_.

And you were relentless: Labored breath, fine sheen of sweat covering your face and your breasts, but you still showed no sign of being tired or slowing down, chasing your release. Riding him, using him, mercilessly. And he knew he didn’t have any experience whatsoever so his input would probably be useless, but there was still one thing he could do.

He put his hands on your waist, to help you ride him faster, bunching the fabric of your pretty dress a little, making it ride up your thighs just enough to give him a glimpse of his thick cock disappearing inside you. He moaned at the sight, but you quickly slapped his hands away.

“Remember the rules, Peter…” You reminded him, breathily, “touch me, and this is over…”

“No… no, please!” He begged, pathetically, “please, I’ll be good… I promise!”

“Atta boy” You approved, leaning over to place a little kiss on his lips, surprisingly chaste for your current activities, “And good boys get their rewards…”

You tighten your pussy muscles up, tearing a groan out of his throat. You pushed him around until he was lying flat across both seats, his head pillowed by the window. Satisfied with his new position, you leaned back a little, reaching behind you to cup his balls under your dress.

“Fuck!.. oh fuck! Right there!” he sobbed, “right there!”

“Shh, I know, baby,” You cooed, soothingly, “I know…”

“I-I’m gonna…”

“Oh no, Spidey. You are going to wait your fucking turn” You reprimanded him, turning your massages into a hard squeeze that had him crying out. An alarm went off inside Peter’s head at you calling him 'Spidey', but soon your punishing rhythm and strong grip on the base of his cock had him rolling his eyes inside his skull, brain melted into a useless puddle of goo.

You weren’t any better, jumping up and down his hard length, your clit hitting your knuckle every time you took him in all the way, the sharp sting of the head of his cock colliding with your cervix giving you the extra edge you needed for the tight coiled spring inside you to finally snap.

You could have ended it right then, after all, you had already gotten yours. But he had been so obedient, so good… He deserved a reward. Besides, it was going to be easier if you tired him out. Yeah, those were the only reasons.

Or at least, that’s what you told your self as you braced yourself placing both hands on his muscular chest, drool worthy even hidden as it was under his plaid shirt, and rocked your hips in short quick strokes, your sensitized walls fluttering around him in the tiny aftershocks of your orgasm.

Peter’s hands were blindly searching for purchase, and one of them found it on the edge of the seat he was lying on. You heard it crack under the force of his grasp and knew that, as reckless as you were being, you had been smart in not letting him put his hands on you.

“So good… you’re so good… oh, fuuu-“ His voice was pitched high and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. You leaned over him to whisper at his ear,

“Come for me, baby” Baby? You frowned. Where had the endearment come from? He wasn’t your baby. He wasn’t yours, period. You would do better to remember what you were doing this for. “Come on Peter, come all inside me…”

It was all it took, almost as if he was waiting for your order. You felt his hips involuntarily thrust up into you as he came with a final curse.

“Woah… Oh God!” He was breathless, completely spent, melting into the seats, “That was… let’s… let’s try that again!”

That made you chuckle despite yourself. You hated to admit it, he was cute. And that debauched, fucked out look was really hot on him.

Peter’s brain was trying to get through the fog, trying to pin point exactly what felt wrong, you saw it on his eyes. It was a shame, really, you could have bask in the afterglow for a little longer if it wasn’t for your earlier slip-up. You probably didn’t have more than a few seconds before he remembered you calling him Spidey, so you reached for your backpack under the seats and pulled a small golden cylinder out of it.

As you opened it and applied your lipstick, you noticed Peter’s eyes on you.

“Nothing, it’s just… God, you’re so pretty!” Peter reached for your face, cupping your cheek and you allowed yourself to lean into his touch a little.

“Really? You like me?”

Peter nodded. Your smile turned a little sharper,

“And what about my lipstick, you like this shade?”

The question struk him as a little weird, but, whatever, it wasn’t as if he actually understood girls most of the time.

He nodded again,

“It’s almost as pretty as you”

Your smile was definitely wolfish now.

“Thank you! It’s vintage, you know?” You commented casually. He perked up at that; he liked vintage things too. Granted, he liked vintage computers and videogames, but maybe you guys could find something in common.

Emboldened by that thought, he chanced snaking his arms around your waist. His heart did a little jump when you didn’t immediately removed them.

“Really? That’s pretty cool!”

“Yes, it’s from the forties, actually” You explained, “This specific shade was a favorite amongst the female agents of the SSR. You know, the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Later known as SHIELD…”

Peter’s blood turned to ice, and his grip around your waist, vicelike. There were no traces of the lazy, spent smile on his face, or of the adoration that up until two seconds ago had shone bright in his eyes.

“Who are you?” He demanded, tightening his hold on you minutely. To his surprise, you didn’t struggle or tried to get away: You did the exact opposite thing, wrapping your own arms around his neck and leaning in closer.

“Wanna know the name of this shade?” You breathed against his lips, right before capturing them in an open mouthed kiss, slow and dirty, and by far the most sensual one you had ever shared.

By the time you released his lips, his head was spinning. No, wait, it wasn’t his head, it was the whole bus. Scratch that, it was the whole world. Your smirk as you looked down on him, the only thing on focus, everything else was blurring, shifting and twisting fast.

“It’s called 'Sweet dreams'…”

Realization dawned on him as the blackness overtook him, you had drugged him. With your lipstick.

“Who are you?” The demand came out as more of a beg. You sighed.

“I'd tell you the truth, Peter, I'd do” You confessed, “But even that would be a lie”

The last thought on Peter’s disjointed mind before succumbing to unconsciousness was that at least now no one could make fun of him for being the last virgin on senior class anymore.

You knew it was a mistake, letting him live. Just as you knew it was a mistake as you were climbing into his lap in the first place. Your soft spot for Peter Parker was a weakness, a dangerous one that would surely come back and bite you in the ass some day. But he wasn’t the enemy, not really, and your mother had thought you to minimize the casualties anyway; people weren’t numbers, they weren’t “collateral damage”, they were sons and daughters and brothers and mothers, they were someone’s whole world.

Just as your mother had been your whole world, before she was taken away from you.

And now, thanks to Peter Parker, you had exactly what you needed to find the real responsible for your mother’s death, and make him pay. You took the glasses from his face and put them on. They remained unresponsive but it didn’t matter, you were a hacker the likes of which the world hadn’t seen since Daisy Johnson, your мамочка had said so herself. If there was anyone in this world capable of hacking into the interface, it was you.

You finally stood from Peter’s lap, letting him slip out of you, and tucking him back into his pants, cause you figured he was going to be plenty humiliated once he woke up, he didn’t need the losers of his school to make fun of him anymore than they already did. You hurried to get your things and jump out of the bus, knowing that with his peculiar metabolism, he was going to burn through the narcotic a lot faster than a regular man.

And if you felt the smallest pang of regret as you saw the bus driving away, or if you dreamt about Peter Parker for weeks after your little encounter, well, no one actually needed to know.


End file.
